Fyrea is a little below average height, with long, waist length light blond hair with streaks of light red, and medium-toned skin. She is slender, but with a muscular lining. Her ears, which are small but work very well for their purpose, have been peirced thrice, twice on the lobe, and once at the top. In the one at the top, she wears a silver drop. The hole in the lobe, closest to her head holds the dangling tooth of some beast, and the other, a blood red and brilliant yellow gem drop. She has two large light blue eyes, so light in fact that some people believe her at first to be blind. Her eyes are framed by long dark lashes, and topped with thin, highly arched eyebrows, giving her the overall appearance of a snobbish noble.
Fyrea is a friendly person, but quiet with strangers. Only after she has known them for a little while does she open up and show her true self. She talks a lot when she is excited, angry or sad, but if she is not high on some emotion, she barely speaks at all. She likes to watch people, and is a great judge of character. She keeps her ears and eyes open, and is sometimes greatly awarded by it. She hides beneath her shell a violence and passion. She has a quick temper that easily explodes at the most unexpected times. He father often says it comes from the red in her hair, which she inherited from her dead mother. Besides the temper, she is also a violent lover. She is in love with life, and all living things. She enjoys being alive, the very thought of it. She lets loose her temper on anyone violating the right of life, on anything, plant, animal or human. She likes making friends, although she does not have many at the moment. She likes people, she likes their company, and believes very strongly that there is good in everyone.
Fyrea wants to impress. She wants this more than anything. All her life, she has grown up hearing stories of dragons and riders, the fights, the flights, Impressions and Searches. Growing up in a Weyr, she has been around dragons since before she can remember. She loves dragons, and they love her. But those dragons belonged to others. They were not her own. She wants to impress wants to become a rider, and wants to have a dragon by her side, to share her hopes and dreams, relationships, troubles, pains and happiness, and everything else there is to be experienced in life.
Being the youngest of seven children, and the only daughter, Fyrea grew up surrounded by boys. At a young age, maybe only one or two turns, her mother had been killed fighting Thread. Fyrea does not remember her, but only can remember tidbits of a song long forgotten, when pieces slip through her mind sometimes late at night.